Autumn longing
by Andromeda of Othrys
Summary: Holly Potter had never liked the autumn. It brought her a longing for a man that haunted her dreams as a child, and her life as a teen. Unfortunately, he's the only one able to sate her longing, but she'll be damned if she gave in just because of that. Creative take on Hades/Persephone myth.


**This drabble is written for the Slytherin House, prompt being Autumn/Fall - 686 words**

 **A/N: This is a slight AU, with fem!Harry and other thing explained in the story.**

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Little Holly Potter had never liked autumn. Maybe it was the progressive worsening of the already mercurial British weather, maybe it was the sight of Aunt Petunia's various plants Holly loved so much slowly dying, but the autumn was one season she hated even more than winter. It made no sense for her to dislike autumn more than winter, given that she was born in July, but that was how it was.

As she grew up, she slowly realized just why she detested the autumn so much. Come each Autumn Equinox, she would start feeling the strange emptiness in her heart, _longing_ as her primary school teacher called it when she described the symptoms, for a dark-haired man she could only see in her dreams. She never managed to make out his features, hidden as he was by the shadows that draped him like clingy lovers, but she could never forget his soft laugh, the way he danced with her, and how he made her feel like a queen.

Being told she was a witch and coming to Hogwarts had a curious effect on her autumn longing. The castle, filled to the brim with the magic as it was, managed to drag her attention away from the sinking feeling, and she was eternally grateful for that. On the other hand, some of the people she met, like Professor Snape, Headmaster Dumbledore or Professor McGonagall, only worsened her longing. In fact, seeing Professor McGonagall for the first time hit her with a wave of both hurt and adoration so badly, she collapsed on her knees, sobbing and babbling in a language Ron later told her sounded vaguely like Greek. The Professor had, according to Ron, paled horribly and hugged Holly until she calmed down.

It wasn't the end of strange happenings. She had seen not only her parents in the Mirror of Erised, but the man from her dreams as well. Snape had been quite nasty to her in the class, but with the air of politeness one would expect from a underling to its ruler. But strangest of all were Tom's cryptic words as he died from the basilisk fang she stuck in his diary.

 _You cannot run forever, my darling. Autumn always comes._

It wasn't until her private chat with Headmaster Dumbledore that she finally got the explanation for all the incidents.

"The mythologies around the world, my dear girl, were based on exceptional wizards and witches," Dumbledore told her in a grave voice. "And unlike muggles, we have proven the theory of reincarnation to be quite, quite true."

"So, you think…?" Holly gulped.

Dumbledore nodded. "I believe you already know who you are."

Holly didn't say the name, but it wasn't difficult to figure it out. Her primary school had gone over the major Greek myths, and that particular one explained her longing in the autumn well. Too well, actually.

"And you sir? Are you..."

"Like you?" The smile Dumbledore gave her was grim and brittle. "Unfortunately. You'd have addressed me as _παππούς_ back then, my dear."

Holly flinched involuntarily. _Grandfather._ The feelings that word invoked...

"Sir? Are we..."

"No." Here Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "We may be their reincarnations, but we're not obliged to live their lives."

"But Tom said _-_ " Holly could still hear his words echoing in her ears in the eerie light of Chamber.

"Tom always tried to be something more," Dumbledore soothed her. "You may long for him like _she_ did for _her_ husband, but you are not _her_. You are free to make your choice."

Remembering those words gave her strength and peace two years later, in that accursed graveyard, as reborn Voldemort glided over to her, his spindly fingers tracing her cheekbones.

"Hello, my dear Persephone," he whispered in her ear, and despite everything she knew about him she felt her body go lax, reminded of the endless nights _they_ spent together. But she quickly reminded herself she wasn't Persephone any more that Headmaster was Kronos, Professor McGonagall Demeter or Voldemort Hades.

"My name's Holly," she whispered in the same honey voice, freezing him. "Now _piss off,_ you creep _._ "


End file.
